


Table For One

by LMTYL__Lye



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Big Eater Eddie Brock, Gen, Original Character POV, POV First Person, POV Outsider, Restaurants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMTYL__Lye/pseuds/LMTYL__Lye
Summary: “Vegetables, Eddie,” I scolded him.“Tomatoes are a vegetable, right?”  He kept eye contact with me as he grabbed a mozzarella stick and dunked it in the marinara before shoving the whole thing in his mouth.(In which a restaurant hostess chats with the local weirdo.)





	Table For One

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in FEBRUARY and somehow forgot???
> 
> And the OCs popped into existence just for this story, might reuse them again sometime.

“Hey, uh,” says the petite blonde girl tugging on my sleeve, “that guy you just sat in my section, he, like, ordered three different drinks and two whole pizzas, just for himself.”

I gave her a gentle grin. “Oh yeah, that’s Eddie. He’s usually in here every Thursday, but it’s been a couple weeks since he showed up.” The girl had started a few days after Eddie’s last visit, but now it looked like those first-day nerves were back. Which was understandable, since Eddie could be a bit… intense.

“So, should I—”

“Put his whole order through? Of course, hon. Sometimes he’ll even get a third pizza to go.”

She just stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

“Dahlia. Kitchen. Order.”

I shook my head as she scurried off to the kitchen, wondering when the hell I got old enough to consider an eighteen-year-old a kid.

Well, with the lunch rush over and only a quarter of the tables occupied, I could take a few minutes away from the hostess stand to check up on one of my favorite regulars.

Unlike a lot of guys, Eddie always sat facing away from the front doors. He had a four-top booth to himself, and was flipping through a couple different notebooks with a pen at the ready. And, as usual, talking to himself.

He cut himself off mid-sentence to turn and flash me a television-ready smile as I walked up. “Hey, Syd!”

“Hey, hon. Stayin’ out of trouble?”

That made him laugh. “I could spend all week on my sofa and Trouble would miss me and kick down my door!”

I tried to catch a peek at what he was working on, but his notebooks were now closed and stacked beside the wall, pen capped and on top. Well, I’ll be staring at my ceiling tonight, wondering about that.

“So,” Eddie waved my attention off his books and back to his person, “we just got back in town last night. Huge, huge lead. Hoping to get the first part published by this time next week.”

“’Scuse me, Syd, mozzarella sticks coming in hot.” Dahlia had Eddie’s usual triple-order and was eyeing him with a little concern. To be fair, he looked like he wanted to yank the plate right out of her hands.

“Vegetables, Eddie,” I scolded him.

“Tomatoes are a vegetable, right?” He kept eye contact with me as he grabbed a mozzarella stick and dunked it in the marinara before shoving the whole thing in his mouth. I’ve never seen this man with a crumb or drop of sauce on his face.

“Maybe on your planet,” I said back, covering my discomfort with humor.

Eddie choked a little, and played it off like he meant to laugh. Okay, maybe it was normal for Dahlia to have been a little freaked out by the guy after taking his order. A change of topic was in order.

“So, big story, hon?”

“You’ll just have to read about it next week.”

Dahlia finally joined in. “What big story?”

“She’s not from around here,” I explained to Eddie, “moved here for school, never watched your show.”

“Eh, I’m pretty sure  _ The Brock Report _ is all on YouTube these days.” He smiled at the girl. “I’m a reporter, had my own show for a while. Focusing more on writing now.”

I’m sure he only ate three or four mozzarella sticks during our chat, but half the plate was empty. My weirdness meter had ticked from “green” to “yellow” and it was time to bail.

“Enjoy your food, hon,” I said, and, right on cue, the bell on the door chimed. “Duty calls!”

\--

“He’s not gonna be sick, is he?” Dahlia and I were at the hostess stand, watching Eddie polish off his first pizza. The kitchen staff were peeking out as well, watching the food disappear.

“Nope.”

“And he does this every week?”

“Yup.”

“It shouldn’t be physically possible to eat that much, right?”

“Probably not.”

I could see the curiosity overriding the tiny blonde girl’s earlier anxiety. She took a deep breath and strode over to Eddie’s table.

“How’s everything going, sir? Need a refill?”

“Uh, yeah, let’s get some more Mountain Dew, thanks.”

Back with a new glass, Dahlia’s curiosity won out. “Are… are you sure your stomach can hold that much food?”

He gave a laugh. “Yunno, I think you’re the first person to just straight-up  _ ask _ me that. Don’t worry about me, kid, my doctor says I just have a high metabolism. Or maybe a black hole in my stomach. Anyways, I’m used to people thinking I’m weird. Hopefully, I’m the weirdest customer you’ll see here.”

“Oh, hon, you have no idea,” I chimed in. “I heard  _ the wildest _ story about a guy climbing into the lobster tank at—”

Eddie’s smile had disappeared, his eyes a little too wide and his ears turning red. He sat there, back stiff, expression of mortification on his face, not quite meeting my eyes.

“…Oh, no…”

“In my defense,” he said, blush spreading across his face now, “I was running a really,  _ really _ high fever at the time.”

Dahlia took that as her cue to go check on the table across the dining room.

Eddie turned back to his pizza and stacked two slices together, the pace of his eating shifting from his usual “marathon runner” to a bit more frantic.

“Sorry, forget I even brought it up.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, not looking at me at all.

\--

When Dahlia came around with the bill, he handed her $80, told her to keep the change, and hurried out.

\--

The following Thursday, Eddie was back, more than happy to chat with me about the new article he’d put out. This time, on top of the usual, he ordered two slices of chocolate cake for the road.

Dahlia and I agreed that he probably ate both.


End file.
